Serena
by katiefoxe
Summary: Serena... Most likely a one shot.


I have been trying to write a Serena fic for what feels like forever but after several failed attempts this is the most I have managed. I've been clearing up my laptop and decided to post it before I delete, despite the fact it isn't up to much and is unlikely to go anywhere. As for my other unfinished fics, I have been writing and rewriting and am still completely unhappy with each. If I manage anything halfway decent I'll update Sweet Confusion and The Socialisation of Mr Hanssen sometime soon (famous last words!).

How had she reached this point? Serena Campbell sat alone in a dimly lit room with a half empty bottle of wine by her side and a full glass in her hand. She stared angrily at the glass for a moment, as if it were somehow withholding the answer to her question. Averting her gaze to a letter which also lay on the table before her she suddenly grabbed it, screwed it up and threw it across the room. Breathlessly she gulped another mouthful of wine and suppressed the tears that were stinging her eyes.

Serena Campbell's early years had been mostly spent trying to impress a father who died before she felt she had managed to do so. Perfect grades, girl guide badges, dance lessons, French lessons… Serena excelled at everything and yet, it never seemed to be enough. He was never proud enough. Adrienne on the other hand, was all about boasting about her "clever girl", even if she had no real interest in which particular subject Serena had topped. Even at a young age Serena had suspected that her mother's enthusiasm was simply an attempt to cover up her father's lack of attention. It wasn't that her father was neglectful or even uninterested, he had just been busy. Always busy. Serena had spent a great deal of time feeling resentful of this as a teenager, even later as an adult she had a sense of bitterness. These days however, Serena didn't feel that she had the right to judge her father anymore.

Where her father had been absent however, Adrienne was omnipresent. And everyone adored Adrienne McKinnie. Serena sometimes felt that even her friends preferred Adrienne to her. She knew several of her boyfriend's over the years had flirted with her mother, and true to form Adrienne had never balked at flirting back. Adrienne had flirted her way through a large part of her life. Serena knew this flirtation, manipulation, was something she and her mother had in common. She had always thought it odd, that she had appeared to inherit the contrasting combination of her parents' genes: serious and flirty. Perhaps it was why she had always felt so unsettled in her life. Why she had never felt entirely satisfied with anything, because there was always one half of her being that disagreed, that railed against the other.

Her father never saw her go to Harvard, but he would have been proud, she was sure of that. He would have understood the achievement far greater than Adrienne, even though she had been ecstatic at the news and boasted to all and sundry about her daughter getting into Harvard, Serena felt her mother was simply once again putting on a show because Serena's father wasn't there to do so.

Adrienne had adored Edward; her father would have hated him. Her father would have thought Edward to be "all style and no substance". Her father would have been right.

But Edward had charmed his mother-in-law. Even when he cheated, even when it was obvious their marriage was over and Adrienne raged at Edward, and vehemently lamented his treatment of her daughter to others (because Adrienne always had to emtell /emsomeone); Serena still heard that hint of something in her mother's tone that suggested maybe Serena was to blame. Maybe Serena wasn't home often enough, maybe Serena didn't understand what was required to keep a happy marriage. Maybe her mother had been right.

Serena took another gulp of her wine and looked at the crumpled up letter at the other side of the room. How had it all turned out like this? It seemed like the more she tried to hold things together the quicker they unravelled. She should never have moved to Holby. She had been perfectly happy at Kings'. Well… that disastrous fling with Jonathan aside. She sighed and rubbed her temples. He'd been yet another rash decision prompted by a stupid, childish urge to wind up Edward.

But then Henrik Hanssen had glided into her life at a medical conference. He approached her after she'd given a talk on laparoscopic technics. Serena gave a short laugh, as she thought back to that event and how she had initially thought Hanssen was trying to hit on her. He had been extremely complimentary about her talk and offered to buy her a drink. She had soon realised that Henrik Hanssen was not like so many of the other middle-aged consultants there that evening, looking for a few drinks and a one-nightstand. Hanssen had not just happened across her; he had done his homework and knew exactly who she was. He had read all of her recent journal publications and was almost able to recite her CV to her. She had been extremely flattered, after she got over her initial surprise, and they had talked for an hour until Hanssen said he had to leave. They had exchanged numbers, and she had gone home with the intention of finding out more about the enigmatic Henrik Hanssen.

A week later, after another tedious row with Jonathan, she got a call from Hanssen saying he was in London and could she meet him for a coffee. If she'd known then of course, what she knew now she wouldn't have been so nervous getting ready for that coffee. Perhaps, Serena thought, if she had known then what she knew now, then she would not have gone to meet him at all.

He was there before her and rose to greet her with a firm handshake, which she used to tug him towards her to initiate a polite peck on the cheek. She had been surprised when he cleared his throat and tugged at his collar with a nervous smile. As they waited for their coffees to arrive she had politely enquired about his trip to London and he had asked whether she was busy at work. Small talk she thought at the time, but looking back, everything Hanssen had done from the moment she arrived that day (nervous collar tug aside) had been geared towards garnering further information. Had she known she was being head hunted of course she would have been more circumspect in her answers, but the usually cautious Serena Campbell had presumed herself to be dealing with a reserved, middle-aged consultant working his way up to a proposition of a personal nature.

"Are you happy in your current position?"

The question had taken her aback for a moment, but she had recovered quickly and flippantly countered with "Are you offering me another?" She had grinned and took another sip of her coffee whilst he tilted his head and regarded her steadily for a few moments.

"Ms Campbell, I think you are exactly what I need."

She had almost spat up her coffee.

"What Holby City hospital needs." he added, and produced a document from his briefcase.

She had played hard to get, obviously. Strung it out for a few weeks, pushed as far as she dared for greater benefits and was mildly surprised when he acquiesced to most of them. He really did want her - for Holby City.

Aside from the fiscal benefits this new job offered, it also provided Serena with a reason to start afresh and it meant being closer to her mother. Naturally, Elinor had thrown an almighty strop and stopped speaking to her for a week but Serena deemed the silent treatment an added bonus, allowing her time to concentrate on the details of their move.

On her arrival, Serena had naively believed that her greatest obstacle at Holby City would be the hospital's outdated, NHS dinosaur Ric Griffin. The man was infuriatingly slow, obstinate and patronising. And he had taken an instant dislike to her! Not that she had been bothered about him disliking her. She had figured out pretty quickly that Ric Griffin was a man who saw himself as a patriarch, a guiding light to those around him. Serena sniggered, he could be so incredibly pompous sometimes. Ric had been mentoring Malick and she had realised that the quickest way to unsettle Ric was to steal his protege and challenge his dominance on Keller.

She thought about Malick. She'd always had a soft spot for him and had been genuinely heartbroken when he lost his hand. But typical Malick, he hadn't let it beat him. She still missed him. She missed those days on Keller when she still felt like she knew where she stood.

Ever since Hanssen's departure, she had felt her career had been on a gradual downward spiral. In her more bitter moments, she had blamed Hanssen for not handling things properly and simply leaving everyone in the lurch. This had coincided with new members joinging the Board and some of her old allies leaving for pastures new. She hadn't had time to schmooze the newbies before the Board had been sent into a spin, with Hanssen's second sudden departure in less than a year. It left a bad taste amongst the Board and all things Hanssen became tinged by it. New initiatives they had worked on during the previous few months - the Board suddenly wanted time to rethink because perhaps Hanssen hadn't been on top of his game when recommending them. Never mind that she had worked her arse off on them too! Upon his departure Hanssen had recommended that she be given the position of CEO, but of course, like everything else, that was tainted too. His recommendation had all but sealed her fate, she should have known that immediately but she had been so stupidly flattered, so eager to accept that she forgot it wasn't Hanssen's to give. That Hanssen had burnt his bridges with the Board and by association, hers too.

She realises of course, that Hanssen cannot be blamed for how she has ended up where she is now; alone and drowning her sorrows. Some things had been set in motion long before she knew of Henrik Hanssen's existence. Some had been set in motion even before her own existence.

Her phone starts to ring and she snorts bitterly on seeing the name of the caller: Guy Self. She rejects the call. Well, that about sums things up doesn't it Rena? She asks herself. After everything that has happened today, has her daughter called? No. Ric Griffin? No. It's Guy bloody Self.

She downs the rest of her glass of wine and refills it from the bottle.


End file.
